The waves crash and recede
In a language I do not speak

The mists drift in from sea
and whisper gently unto me

In this midnight air
I feel the silent pull

of something far away

as currents twist and turn
the sea side flowers bend

a dance, a waltz, a love
a romance with the wind

Two 17 year olds on a single bed,
happy,
pulling apart at the slightest noise.

One 17 year old sitting,
shaking,
stating that he's in love.

Two 17 year olds hugging,
entwined,
so he can't see her face.

One 17 year old trying to explain,
hesitantly,
how she just isn't there yet.

Two 17 year olds.

One in love.

One in like.

This is for my best friend
You were beautiful, and loved, you had so much left to give
I can't believe it's already been two years
No matter where I go you still find a way to make your presence clear
I still carry the weight of your life everywhere
Like whenever I see sunflowers I run to the spot they live just to see if you are there
When you told me I had a gift
I swear your face is scarred into the back of my eyelids because I see you when I sleep
I see you in my dreams just doing everyday mundane things or maybe smiling
When I got the phone call from Eileen, I dropped down onto my knees and screamed, bursting into tears
Realizing we are weaker than we feel or seem is pretty humbling
When people ask how I'm doing now, it's more an instinctual reaction to reply "well me, I'm just fine"
Blame it on an indifferent demeanor, or on an educational system that forces teachers to teach students to fill in bubbles and not use their minds
I guess they don't read what is said in between the lines
That I'm overwhelmed by the presence of your absence
Unanswered questions on repeat of why'd this happen, why it happened
When we all know I was far more reckless and less loved than you
I had a conversation with someone I love greatly the other day and we were talking about why I never feel like I'm doing enough
And it didn't occur to me that I can never do enough because now that you're gone I'm living for two
I love fully, my life is a vivid picture of possibilities and realized dreams of being of service to others in recovery from this disease
But vivid pictures stand in Stark contrast to the piece of my heart that you took when you left, now a hole shaded grey in what was once a beautiful place
Just like yesterday, I was speaking to a group of people in a detox and it was just a room full of people and they all had your face
"Live for yourself, don't live vicariously", a lofty idea hammered home through a million motivational speakers and yet
You don't really have a choice, because if you don't live through me in my mind you might not even be alive at all

Once above my face the Sun did
  weave a joyous spell
And rested calmly upon the backs of
  the great stone Giants
Whose stance used bring early night
  to bear on these tired eyes of mine.
And the dutiful Moon too, did smile
  down
Reassuring me with her presence
Patrolling the dark heavens till the
  Dawn would order her away.
Down the wild slopes rode my
  children, brimming with life
Their blood ensuring my Youth
  forever, or so I thought.
Watching over their shadowy green
lanes, noble cedars and majestic pines
Vigilant watchtowers upholding our
  green faith:
Caressed the Bloom's feet I did and
  raced the drinker's pace
Precious memories slowly eroded as
  now in lonely exile I dwell.

First warning I got, carnage floating
  downstream
Severed trunks of trees and their
  stricken branches
Finally laid to rest upon the worm
  eaten lock gate -
Saw a mass exodus taking place,
  whole tribes on the move
Telling of trouble coming and of a
  world soon to disappear;
Pagan storms they brewed ominously
  overhead, their seed
Did burn my skin and burnt through
  the silver scales
Crippling the little fishes who'd bury themselves prematurely in that cold
  graveyard depth;
Those blissful birds too, that used eat
  out of my hand,
As my countenance grew steadily
  more gaunt and pale
They too, did decide to leave, seek
  food elsewhere.

And the ailing flower wishing the old
  days would return
As my ears they began to pick up a  new sound growing louder all the time
Gnawing away like a worm in my
  brain, the razor-toothed saw
Singing in the woods his eerie Death
  song
Leaving in his wake a grisly trail of
  ****** and mayhem.
My own days numbered then; I saw
  the savage leaders come
With their strange ideals and talk, of
  quotas profits and costs:
Who beside me built a Fortress, a
  sinister smoking structure -
O! those Dark forces it sent forth to
  finish me off
Looting and burning, laying waste my
  beautiful Kingdom
My exiled Spirit indeed, all there is now to tell of that terrible cost.

Feeling for someone is a burden
A burden that becomes you
It delivers a soulful journey whilst
Both are having connected visions

My desired heart has been fulfilled
No longer is it left along with the washing
It accompanies me as does my love, with
The certainty of tomorrow

Claiming my happiness seems unnecessary
like the sunrise it lives inside us
It becomes our energy
Our natural 'go to' emotion

The journey is green and gold
With silver amulets and chains of memories
slung around our shoulders
Like badges of office

The time of year has connotations
with the longevity of our love
Memories of breathing out visual steam
Or camping in the cool morning air

The emotion is as strong
It lives as we do with tempered faith
Deeper knowledge
And faith in ourselves to keep it right

Haven’t written in a while,
The reason or reasons seem jumbled in my head,
I know what I want to say but I question if it wrong if I feel a certain way,

Lying in dread,
From these thoughts, I try to escape,
Lies I remind myself,
Feelings are lies,
Allowing yourself to hide is the greatest gift you could give,
Keep on tryin to believe you're alright,
But at night it’s like the light can’t even help

You’re fine,
There’s nothing wrong,
Well, nothing significant,

Roof over head,
Bread in tummy,
Plates to parents,
Air to heat,
Sheets to shoes,
All it is mind over matter,
As long as you don’t mind it won’t matter,

I mind,
Does my mind matter?
Do all the thoughts I think matter?
Is it wrong to feel what I feel?
Is it wrong to believe what I believe?
What’s right?
Why’d I stoping writing?
Why'd I try to silence myself?

Is it the thought that my voice is meant for silence,
That I should be the girl in crowded hallways who bears her soul inside the books, walking quietly,
Smiling at strangers, trying to remember no one sees the chaos in my brain,
That it’s all tall tales I tell myself,

So I’ll sit and type the feelings I feel,
Allowing the silence to fill the voids of speaking,
knowing I’ll be judged for them,
Believing my life is meant for more  keeps me going,
And one day showing the respect of a voice that just wants to feel heard,

Silence is deafening,
Let me know if you can hear it too?